Do You Mean It?
by IAmAProMemer
Summary: Ludwig and Feliciano have loved each other since the dawn of time, and for the past fifteen years, have been dating. Germany invites the Italian to a getaway in the Caribbeans.
1. Chapter 1

For the past few weeks, Ludwig was planning on a very important moment, one that would change his life for forever. A soft smile, quick heartbeat, and countless prayers had accompanied him during that time— and they weren't gone yet.

Two days ago, he invited his boyfriend, Feliciano, to a week long summer getaway in the most exquisite hotel that had a beautiful water park and which, from there, was a six minute walk from the beach. The fun-loving Italian happily obliged. These kind of offers done by Ludwig were not very rare—and Feli (surprisingly) agreed to pay for every other trip— but he was never invited to one of this stature. Usually they would just take a few days trip to the Alps or Greece, so he knew something was happening when he was invited to a, quote : "...five star luxury hotel with 10:30AM breakfasts, $350 per night stays, plus a single pay-off of $1.000 for an all-inclusive membership (per person)... beautiful crystal clear beach six minutes away from the water park with 3-story slides..." (read from the website because he knew how much luxury hotels cost and begged to pay for at least 1/5 of the stay at the hotel. He ended up paying for 1/8).

The flight there was on 7th October, 2016, and the return flight was 15 October, 2016 (one day over a week). He calmed himself with the knowledge that they were both countries and that Ludwig served part-time as the German UN ambassador's right-hand man and made good money. Feliciano, was a country, too, and sometimes played the piano for an orchestra that travelled nationally for concerts. To make a bit of extra money, he painted— not in the new popular art style which people called 'modern art', but the older 'Renaissance' style. He did not believe modern art should be called 'modern art', but that a more suitable name would be "modern shit". Ludwig was obviously surprised when he heard the Italian angrily mutter a curse, but he knew that the topic of art was something his lover was very passionate about— and he specifically hated the modern stuff.

On the eighth, they arrived at the hotel. Germany was tired from the adrenaline rush in his veins that wouldn't cease and allow his avid mind to sleep on the plane. He envied the magical ability Feliciano had to sleep nearly anywhere, and slept on the plane as if he had lived there his entire life. He had been contemplating on whether he should get a double or a single bed bedroom, which he knew would be more convenient since Feli didn't sleep in his own bed anyways. In the end, he went for double beds because he didn't want to look strange at the hotel's check-in or to the courier that took their suitcases to their room, and after allowing them to 'settle in', showed them around the rest of the hotel. They soon found out that there were many different restaurants at the suite, consisting of Mediterranean cuisine, steak, Asian cuisine, European pastries and of course, Caribbean cuisine, and were all free (tips aside).

After the tour, they were taken back to their large room that had a balcony on it's west side. "Ludwig? You looka tired."

"Ja, I am. I can not sleep on planes, zhey are too loud for me to sleep," He partly lied.

Feli became concerned.

"You can sleep ifa you want to. We donta have to eat now."

He waved away the Italian's suggestion.

"Ve can eat first."

Italy's eyes closed, and eyebrows furrowed as he stood in front of Germany, who was sitting on a bed at the left of the room, and tried to look more ferocious and give himself a Germany-like appearance. He attempted to deepen his voice and cover up his Italian accent with a German one as he said: "Nein, you needa to sleep. Sleep is good for you. If you do nota sleep, you vill get sick." He caused Germany to smile and quietly giggle.

"Okay, okay," he said, smiling and pat the Italian's head. He then attempted to give himself a higher voice and Italian accent," I villa do what you say, cap-i-tan!" He saluted Feliciano. They were both equally bad at doing each other's accents. He still got a 'hehehe!' "How about I sleep, und you can go eat?"

Feliciano nodded. "Sure, but I will still be lonely without you."

"Oh, ve can order food to zhe room."

"That-a sounds great!" Italy smiled and stood fully erect, "Vee~ I'll go do that. You can sleep."

Ludwig nodded, changed his shirt to a black tank top, took off his pants and plopped down onto the bed as his boyfriend ordered food on the phone. He turned onto his side. 'I can barely wait!' He thought, trying to look calm on the outside, but couldn't keep a wide grin from slipping. He turned his eyes and looked out of the balcony to the clear blue sky. 'I'm so happy!...' A few tears formed at his eyes, but he held back the need to cry.

"Ack, verdammt!" He muttered to himself, "I'm not going to be able to sleep like zhis..."

"What Ludwig?"

"N-nozhing! Heh," he was such a terrible liar and he knew it. A knock on the door stopped Italy from asking any further questions.

"Feliciano Vargas, room 102?"

"Si, that's me!"

"You ordered pasta with Alfredo, is that correct?"

"Si."

A woman drove the food cart into the main room and placed a platter of delicious smelling Alfredo pasta onto a glass table. "Thank you, bella."

"You're welcome," she replied, driving the cart back out and closing the door behind her. Feliciano was starving, not having eaten for eight hours, and took the platter into his and Germany's room and sat on his bed that was to the right of the German's.

He heard a slight creak from the bed next to him, and then a mumble. "Vhat're you eating?"

"Alfredo pasta."

"Zhat smells gut."

"Do you wanta some?"

"Nein, I'm just thinking. The cooks must be good here."

Italy twisted the noodles onto his fork, and took in a mouthful. "Si! Shmit's wonderferl fewd."

Ludwig nodded. "Vell, I'm going to try to sleep." The smell of Alfredo sauce had calmed him down, reminding him of the smell in Italy's house when he cooked. After a few minutes of the smell drifting into his nostrils he slipped into his calm, deep sleep


	2. Chapter 2

The German was always the first to wake up. He had gotten to sleep at five in the evening the day before, so it only made sense that he would wake up at three in the morning. He lifted his right arm to look at his watch and groaned, " Ack... Mein Gott. Stupid jet lag..." He was about to get up when he noticed that something was atop his left arm. 'Oh, it's just Feli.' The Italian was asleep on Ludwig's outstretched left arm; thankfully he was a deep sleeper, so Germany had no trouble getting up to use the restroom and taking a shower.

He finished washing in the roomy wash closet and slicking his hair back, etc. around a quarter till' five wearing a black tank top and blue and white plaid boxers. He stepped out of the shower into the kitchen that was near the back of the main room, and thought of what other important matters needed to be settled. 'Kaffee... I should drink some Kaffee.' He was still slightly lethargic, even after having just taken a cool shower. Then he looked back at Italy. 'Maybe I'll fall back asleep, though... ' he decided he'd try to sleep some more, and got back to his side of the bed and laid down. He must've dozed off for a bit from the sound of the heavily breathing Feliciano next to him, because when he next awoke, it's was thirty minutes until four. 'Better than nothing,' he thought to himself, but continued to lay in bed until he felt like he could get up and make himself breakfast.

He began to make his way towards the refrigerator when he noticed that the breakfast at the hotel began at ten thirty in the morning, and he didn't have to make anything, but he still wanted his coffee. 'Hm, I guess that's ok. I still want to know what's in the fridge though.' He opened the refrigerator door to reveal a few 'Heinz' beer bottles, two wine bottles of some sort, 6 cans of Sprite, with an equal amount of Coca-Cola and 2 large plastic bottles of carbonated water. 'I wonder if they have coffee of some sort...' He crouched to look at the lower cabinet of the fridge, and found five canned espressos. Ludwig sighed and clenched his teeth. He wasn't a huge fan of espressos, and decided he would wait until breakfast for his coffee, or maybe call someone in before that.

He sat on would-be Italy's bed, since his was occupied, and pulled out his phone, thinking he should travel around the internet until nine or ten when Italy would be awake. The German thought it'd be nice to not awaken the calmly sleeping Italian as he usually did at six in the morning, and to his surprise, he didn't have to wait too long— the Italian had gotten used to waking up around six (from Germany's training drills), and was already fresh and clean and sitting next to the blonde six minutes until seven.

"Ve have four hours und sixteen minutes to vaste until breakfast. If ve vant to make gut timing, zhen ve have about four."

"That'sa lot of time."

"Ja, I know." The two sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Want to watcha movie–?"

"Ja," the German quickly replied. He and Italy felt quite awkward next to each other, surrounded by the silence of the room. Ludwig was quite sure that Feliciano could hear his heart beating, and quickly thought of a type of movie. He got up and grabbed the TV remote. "Vant to watch a horror movie?"

The Italian's bronze eyes lit up.

"Si!"

Ludwig sat up two pillows on the back of the bed and took a place at one of them. He motioned Feli to the one next to him.

"I've heard zhat Zhe Babadook a good vo-."

"Let's watch something Italian!"  
Germany had never watched an Italian horror movie, but he really wanted to watch The Babadook.

"Ahh, okay, ve can vatch an Italian horror film."

"How about Antropophagous?"

Germany looked the trailer up on his phone and watched about one third of it before almost bursting into tears, and having to put his hand over his mouth to keep in a laugh. "Was it that scary?!"

"Nein, it's actually pretty funny."

Italy frowned. "But this is a classic!"

"Zhe trailer just isn't zhat scary!"

"Don'ta judge a movie by its trailer!

"Okay, okay, I'll give it a go." He found it on Amazon, and was about to rent it in HD, but paused and cringed. He quickly turned his gaze towards Italy. "But, come on. Zhe Babadook is pretty good. Zhe story line is interesting,"

"Ok! Fine!" Feliciano flushed, "We can watch it."

Ludwig bought the online renting of the movie, and about twenty five minutes into it, Italy's eyes were wide, and his arm's were wrapped around his boyfriend's arm. "W-w-w-what'sa going to happen...?"

"Just wait."

The two sat still for about half a minute, and the Italian nearly jumped out of the bed. Germany, who a minute earlier was stone-faced, sat with his mouth gaping. "G-Germany... Do we have to watcha this?" he stuttered.

The movie was paused. "Eh... No. Ve don't."

The Italian released a sigh of relief as the blonde turned off the computer. "So, I guess ve should do somezhing else, Ja?"

Italy raised a finger. "Oh! I have an idea!"

"Oh?"

"We can go to the beach." The Italian said cheerfully, eyes sparkling.

"Zhat's a gut idea." The blonde got off of the bed and walked to the balcony and pulled open the red linen curtains of the balcony. 'I guess Italy closed them while I was sleeping.' The sun had already risen, but still left a beautiful orange hue in the sky. A few clouds were left in the sky, like puddles after rain, but they weren't dark clouds; they looked like soft cotton. Ludwig smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

The two lovers walked happily down a sidewalk that led through a 'botanical garden' with assorted yellow and red flowers. A few coconut trees with still young, green coconuts lined the way. A small outside bar that was disguised as a small hut could be seen a few meters behind them, with the hotel even further back than that.

"OH." The Italian stopped in his tracks and held out his right arm straight out to his side to signal the man in a light blue tee and red swimming shorts behind him to stop.

"Vha–"

Feliciano pressed his index finger to his lips. "Shh..." He grinned, " It's a lizard." Germany didn't know what the short guy in front of him was talking about, until he looked a few feet down the sidewalk where a wide wooden bridge began and saw a small, dull-green colored iguana.

"Are you going to try und catch it?" He whispered to the man before him.

"Si."

He stepped about two feet forward, bent his knees, and held his arms out. With a swift movement faster than you could say "Doritos," he was smiling toothily and had the dry and scaly reptile locked in both of his hands.

His boyfriend was about to say, "How are you not afraid of lizards, but you're afraid of cats licking you," when the The Italian's smile turned upside down and he was shuddering.

"Ger-Ger-GERMANY!"

The blonde ran forth.

"Vhat?" He looked at Italy's hands and saw that the iguana had it's mouth latched onto his thumb. "MEIN GOTT!"

He grabbed the lizard's tail and began to pry it's mouth open with his strong fingers. Tears filled Feliciano's eyes. "Heir, heir... Stay calm," the German said in between clenched teeth, and quickly pulled off the lizard when it's grip had been loosened.

It was hastily put on the ground, and once it had scurried off into some grass, Ludwig stood in front of his teary-eyed Feli and held him close.

"It... It bit me!" He said in between gasps

"Shh, shh... It's ok, it's off now... How's your finger?"

Germany's grip on the Italian relaxed, and he held the small right hand to his chest and examined its' thumb. It was a bit bloody.

"Howa does it look?" Feliciano's head was turned away.

"It looks fine."

It honestly didn't look too 'fine', but he knew that telling the Italian it was bleeding would only cause more tears and an awareness of pain.

"Cana you kiss it?"

Germany's face went blank. "Heheh, I'd rather not..." He quickly changed the subject so Feli wouldn't notice what he said. "H-how about ve go over to zhat shack over zhere?" And grabbed Italy's right hand– the one that had been bitten so the man wouldn't be tempted to look at it, and ran.

"Aaah! Slow downa Germany!"

The blonde stopped in front of a first-aid kit that was nailed on the shack's side and opened it. He found peroxide, alcohol, sticking plasters, cloths, wrap, antibiotic ointment, cotton balls, and bandages.

"Ok, sit down zhere, und don't look at your finger." he pointed to a chair that was next to the closed bar

"Why can't I look at my finge–?"

"Just do vhat I say and don't ask questions."  
The Italian closed his eyes and sighed. He knew there was no use arguing.

A few moments later, he hissed in pain. "Gosh Luddy! What are you doing?"

"I'm putting peroxide on your cut."

"My finger got cut?! Bya the lizard!"

"Ja, but don't vorry. It's small."

"Oh, ok."

Germany finished cleaning the small wound, and put an antibiotic plaster onto it.

"Ja, ist gut now."

The smaller man opened his eyes to see a perfectly clean thumb with a lamely placed bandage. He smirked, and said, "Luddy, can you hand me another bandage?"

"Ja." He knew that he hadn't done a very good job at putting it on. When it came to bandaids, fixing watches and working with other small things, he wasn't the best at using his hands unless he had tweezers.

In only a few seconds, his lover had pulled off the other bandage and replaced it with a new one. He threw the first one away. "Okie-dokie!" He beamed, "So I'm assuming we're going to swim?"

"Ja, vhy else vould ve be wearing svimsuits?"

Feliciano, with a brisk move, threw off his white shirt and ran to the waves. The German let a small smile escape as he watched him touch the water with his toe and jump back.

Suddenly, his brows furrowed and he had an idea. A scheming smile passed across his the blonde's lips. After a few seconds of amusing his idea he took his blue t-shirt off, dropping it on the ground, and stared at the Italian's location.

He got into a running position.

"G-Germany...?" The Italian stuttered to himself with an inquiring and slightly frightened look. His eyes widened, and he was frozen in place.

Ludwig was running towards him at full speed with his arms held outward to grab him.

"AAAAAH GER—!" He screeched, and mid-sentence was picked up by strong arms and hanging over the buff man's shoulders. The German's feet hit the water, but he kept running until it became too hard to do so. He stopped, and could feel the man in his arms shuddering from the slightly chilly waves, and kissed his forehead.

"Zhe vater vill feel vwarmer in a minute or so." He lowered the  
Italian into the water. "So?" He tried to camouflage a grin that would've spread from ear to ear.

Italy began to giggle, and a smile had now replaced his clenched teeth.

"I thoughta you were gonna kill me! Your eyesa looked devious!"

He let out a loud "HA!" and swept his left hand across the water towards Germany, causing the salty liquid to fly towards the blonde.

"Ahck!" Ludwig's arms flew to his face to block the projectile.

"That'sa for picking me up so abruptly and scaring me!" Feliciano pouted cheekily.

"Hm hm. You're not getting avay viz zhat!" A mound of water came hurling at his direction— and in a few seconds, the two were engaged in a full-out water fight. The stronger German was clearly winning.

After what seemed like a tiring eternity to Feliciano, and a short fight between a cat and a mouse to the much taller, and heavier (weight from muscle mass and height) male, the two decided to go back to the beach and take a rest. Feliciano suddenly remembered his hand and surveyed it. The sticky plaster had come off, and his wound was already closed. One of the ups that came with being a country. He turned to Ludwig and did a silly pout.

"That'sa not fair, Luddy. You're stronger anda taller, and I'ma much smaller. My hand was hurting, too!"

The man next to him was clearly busy thinking about something else— even the naive Italian could tell that there was something else going on in his mind by the way he looked off into the clouds. Italy looked at Germany.

"Ey, Germania."

"Hm?" The German was snapped out of his daydreaming by the feeling of a finger prodding his biceps, and his Italian name. "Ja? Sorry, did you say something?" He turned to the small man.

"You seem out of it..." Germany looked back at the sea. "Hey... Ah, what were you thinking abouta?"

He had to quickly fabricate a lie.

"Oh, I guess I vas just dozing off."

He didn't want to tell the lovable man how much he was thinking about him.

Even the naive Italian could tell that he was lying. "Germany, it's pretty obvious thata you weren't dozing off.

He closed his eyes and furrowed his brows. "Since vhen vere you so gut at being able to read peope?"

"You justa seem a lot different, especially this past week. I spend almost alla my time with you, how can I not tell?"

The German's cheeks flushed as he tried to cover up his humility of being able to be read so easily with another lie.

"I-I'm not acting differently," he stammered, "I'm just tired. Yeah, zhat's right... I'm tired... I'm tired, zhat iz all..."

He continued to ramble, more so to himself than the Italian, who was staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

"V—vhy are you looking at me like zhat?"

"Cause you seem scared. Germania, you're rarely like this... Is therea something you're hiding from me?"

"N-NEIN!" He barked, causing the easily frightened man to twitch.

"G—Germany..." His eyes became glossy.

"N-no... Vait, Italy, I'm sorry! It's not vhat I meant!" but the Italian had already gotten up and started running towards the hotel. Germany scrambled up and began to run after him. "No! ITALY! FELI—FELICIANO! I HAVE TO TELL YOU SOMETHING!" But the Italian was already out of earshot. "Scheiße!" He continued running, but slowed to a steady pace, knowing that the smaller man could run swiftly, but only for a short time.

He saw Feliciano turn a quick corner at some brush and a palm tree that led to the wide wooden bridge. 'He's probably going back to our room... At least I'll be able to narrow down his location that way.' The German slowed to a stop. 'He probably needs some time alone.' He grasped his head. 'AGH, but if I wait, that could cause more misunderstandings...'

He grunted and looked around. 'Vhat do I do?'


	4. Chapter 4 (Short chapter)

Feliciano stormed into the hotel room, tears in his eyes.

"H-how could Luddy do this?" He ran into the bathroom and washed his face. 'He doesn't love me... He doesn't... he doesn't...' Was a thought that echoed throughout his mind as he quickly pulled on some shorts and shirt. "That's it... I'm going to leave!" Tears were still streaming down his face as he said this, grabbed his wallet and ran out the door nearly as quickly as he had rushed into the room.

Only five minutes after Feliciano had raced out of the room, Germany rushed into it.

"F-Feli?!" He called out, expecting a reply. He received none. "Verdammt! Verdammt! Verdammt!" He hissed under his breath, and began searching the room for his phone. "Italy vill surely pick up his phone... Surely he vill." He took in a deep breath, heart racing, and called the Italian. A few seconds after he had clicked the "call" button, he heard a buzzing sound, which he walked towards. It was Feliciano's phone on the TV stand. Italy had forgotten his phone. He looked around the room. Italy's wallet was nowhere to be seen. "Feli must have left..." He bit his lip. "If he took his wallet with him then I shouldn't have too much to worry about..."

Germany swallowed a rabble of anxiety that had begun to accumulate in his throat when he remembered that there were lots of gangs in the Caribbean that liked to capture tourists, then steal their money, and/or hold them for ransom. Ludwig put on a change of clothes and grabbed his phone and a few dozen dollars from his wallet. He hoped that Italy would not leave the location that was considered a tourist safe zone, and exited the hotel room to get into their rented car and begin searching.


	5. Chapter 5

_Wow,_ Italy thought, _I'm absolutely lost._ His helpless eyes scanned the rugged city around him. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was really hoping that Ludwig would show up soon... _Dangit..._ Italy's brow furrowed. _He's so clueless about my feelings for him..._ He looked at the ground, heart kindling with a flame of rage, but that was also frozen with fear of loneliness and the knowledge that he may not know what could happen next.

He could tell that he wasn't in a good part of town from the shabby buildings with broken windows and paint peeling off of the stores' bricks, and the way the weeds crawled up out of the ground. He had also seen a few homeless people on his way to his unknown location where his feet had grown tired, and beaten down cars- some with bumpers and grills jammed inwards and polyester coverings over where glass would normally be, signaling that there were robberies in them. He stood in one place for a few moments looking ahead of him. He didn't know where he was planning to go, or how to get back. In his fit of anger he had made many twists and turns in the roads to make sure his Luddy wouldn't find him. He sighed

"Hey."

"G-germany?" he muttered turning around, sulkily, eyes still lowered at the ground to show the shame he felt for running off so abruptly, but also with a slight tinge of anger in them to show how he felt towards the blonde.

He expected the deep voice to meet him again, along with a hug or pat on the head- but he was instead shocked when a swift, strong hand seized him by his collar. _Terrified_ , the Italian man gasped and jerked his head up to meet the stale gaze of a darkly tanned man that wore no shirt, ripped blue jeans, and a plaid gray bandanna around his forehead. He smelled heavily of cigarette smoke.

"You not from here," he spat, r's rolling.

"I-I'm not."

"Heh."

The man chuckled, clutching at Italy's collar harder and stared at him with more intensity before turning his head to the men behind him, and grinned. He excitedly yelled to them. Italy could make out: 'He is easy target' and went pallid. The buff man in the ripped jeans ,which he presumed was the leader of the group of three men behind him, still had a strong grip on Italy and turned his head back to face him.

"You must be a tourist."

Italy gulped in reply.

He kept his grin. "Do not worry. We treat tourists with _excelente_ care."

* * *

It had been a few hours since Feliciano had disappeared, and Germany was growing more and more anxious as the minutes slowly ticked by. He had been talking to a store clerk that he found in a torn down town after two hours of searching for Italy in the tourist zone. He had given the short man a 'short' summary of the whole situation, and asked him if he had seen any touristy-looking brown haired man pass by the store. He was answered with a negative, and asked the clerk the next thing that came to his mind.

"V-what is zhe police's nomb-," he stopped in the middle to catch himself from rolling the r's,"r-re?"

"Eh," the stocky store clerk sitting before him shifted in his chair and twiddled a toothpick between his forefinger and thumb. He swept his fingers along his mustache before answering. "You can call police, but I tell you; police will not be of much help in finding your..." The man paused and studied they way the blonde shuddered and sweat before him. "...friend."

"V-,"the blonde's brow twitched,"W-why not?"

The clerk sighed. "Our police here are how you say... shit. They come too late, if you're lucky.

"Lucky?"

" _Nada_ ; they no arrive if you are not lucky."

Germany bit his cheek to keep himself from pounding his fist on the table and lashing out at the man. "G-g-g-grah-cias," he grumbled, and shakily handed the clerk a some stationery and pen. "Can you give me zheir nombehr?" He was answered with a nod, and the man took the sheet of paper and pen. He wrote down some numbers on the paper, and handed it back. He was handed a ten-dollar bill as a thank you.

Germany's heart was wrenching and he was trying to keep a tear from slipping from his eye as he turned around to sulk out of the store when he was stopped by the accented voice of the man he was just talking to.

" _Wait!"_

He paused and turned his head to the side. "Yes?"

"I think I know where your man may be."


End file.
